


Liquid Courage

by jpo2107



Category: Borderlands
Genre: M/M, tim has a secret exhibitionist kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8084425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpo2107/pseuds/jpo2107
Summary: Convincing himself that this is a good idea, with the clarity that only several shots of whiskey can bring, Tim makes his way towards Wilhelm.





	

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my dear friend @thirtysixsavefiles for looking this over with her keen editor's eye.

Tim feels  _ great _ .

It’s probably safe to say that the main reason for him feeling so spectacular were the two drinks he had downed with Nisha earlier at Moxxi’s bar, and then actually beating her at a game of darts, which was no small feat in itself. Nisha disappeared momentarily after the last match, only to return with a tray of shots.

“Oh, come on, seriously?!” Tim laughs as Nisha lines up the shots on the table. 

Nisha grins, “Sorry cowboy. You owe me at least two shots before I let you off the hook.”

Tim makes a rude noise at the back of his throat, “This is payback for earlier, isn't it?”

Nisha shrugs, “Them’s the break, champ. Knock ‘em back real quick, and I’ll go easy on you.”

Tim shoots her a wide grin and pulls the shots glasses towards him. He picks up one of the glasses and presses it to his lips, takes a deep breath through his nose and tilts his head back, letting the harsh alcohol flood his mouth and down his throat. Coughing, he shakes his head, as the warm feeling from the booze flows through him. Nisha motions for him to drink the other shot, and he grimaces slightly but complies, albeit with another coughing fit.

Nisha tosses back three shots in quick succession like she’s drinking water, hissing slightly as she bangs the last glass on the table. She adjusts her hat on her head before leaning toward Tim.

“Re-match?” She asks, nodding her head towards the dart board.

“Can’t stand that I beat you, huh?” Tim replies, humming under his breath as leans back into his chair. 

“Pffft---” Nisha says dismissively, “Pure fucking luck, Timmy.”

Tim is about to retort with something that will surely get his ass kicked later, but he’s momentarily distracted by Wilhelm walking into the bar. Tim licks his lips nervously as he watches Wilhelm head up to the counter to order something from Moxxi. Nisha follows his line of sight, her lips tilting upward in a dangerous smirk as she tips another shot back into her mouth. She turns back to Tim and sees the pink flush around his cheeks and her grin gets even wider.

“Look who it is!” She says nudging Tim’s hand with her own. Okay, so Tim’s not exactly _subtle_ when it comes to Wilhelm but Nisha’s just being mean now. Tim frowns slightly in her direction but it only makes her smile curve more maliciously. Tim’s cheeks turn scarlet and he clears his throat and Nisha lets out a loud hoot of laughter, drawing the attention of Wilhelm, who looks over at the two with a bemused expression on his face before returning back to his drink.

“He’s so  _ big _ ,” Tim blurts out suddenly, his eyes widening as he realizes what he just said.  _ To Nisha _ . He’s never going to hear the end of this now.

“You should go over there,” Nisha says, poking Tim in the arm. “Pay him a little visit.”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“ _ I dare you _ .”

“No.”

“Awww, that’s too bad, ya chickenshit.” Nisha slides another shot of whiskey towards him. “Maybe this’ll buck up your courage.” When Tim doesn’t make a move to drink the shot, she shrugs and downs it quickly herself. “Just go talk to him, Timmy. You’re making me depressed with that pouty expression on your face.”

Tim hesitates slightly, looking back over at Wilhelm. He had been carrying this crush over the older man for a long time now, too scared to do anything about it. And yes, maybe having all this alcohol sloshing around in his stomach is muddling his decision making process, but Tim is tired of the  _ pining _ , of stumbling over his words whenever Wilhelm so much as looks at him. Tim bites down on his bottom lip, looking at Nisha, who waggles her eyebrows in encouragement, then back to Wilhelm. He stands up, steadying himself with a hand on the table. Convincing himself that this is a good idea, with the clarity that only several shots of whiskey can bring, he makes his way towards Wilhelm. And if there's a bit of a sway to his hips,  _ well.  _ He tries to ignore the wolf whistle coming from Nisha as he walks away, but hey, a little confidence never hurt anyone, right?

Luck is on Tim’s side and he doesn’t fall flat on his face before he sidles up to where Wilhelm is leaning against the bar, nursing his beer. He does however, trip on the bar stool next to Wilhelm and almost face-plants right into Wilhelm’s huge chest. 

“You doing okay, Tim?” Wilhelm asks, steadying Tim with his hands on Tim’s waist. Tim tries not to think about how big Wilhelm’s hands are, and how good they feel around his hips. He laughs, leaning into Wilhelm’s hands, pressing himself onto Wilhelm’s chest. Letting out a low whistle, he tilts his head to look up at Wilhelm and says, “Wow, you are  _ big _ .”

After a short pause, Wilhelm replies, “Yep. Sure am.”

Tim leans in closer to Wilhelm, his nose brushing against Wilhelm’s beard. “I like big.”

“You like---wait, _what_?” 

“I like big.” Tim repeats, “I like  _ you _ .” He smiles. “ Like...a LOT.” He wraps his arms around Wilhelm’s muscular shoulders.

To Tim’s surprise, Wilhelm lets out a grunt of embarrassed laughter, a light tinge of pink colouring the mercenary’s cheeks. Tim uses this to his advantage and presses himself closer to Wilhelm’s body, his right hand trailing off of Wilhelm’s shoulder and down his chest, until his index finger hooks into the front of Wilhelm’s pants. Tim grins up at Wilhelm, feeling loose and relaxed. Wilhelm coughs into his fist, the pink tinge on his cheek slowly turning red.  Tim has never seen Wilhelm flustered before, and he likes being the cause of it.

“You’re drunk, Tim.” Wilhelm says gruffly. “Let’s get you home so you can sleep this off.”

Tim pouts slightly, “I’m not  _ that  _ drunk.”

Wilhelm snorts, lifting Tim off of him and back onto his feet. “You’re plenty drunk if you’re hittin’ on  _ me _ , buddy. Come on, let’s go.” He pushes Tim towards the exit of the bar.

They make it outside Moxxi’s before Tim’s grabbing Wilhelm’s hand and trying to drag him into the alley beside the bar.

"Wil", Tim tugs on Wilhelm’s hand as they turn into the alley.

"What.”

"Wil.”

" _ What.” _

"Wil, come here, I wanna show you a thing."

"What could you possibly need to show me in this alley?" Wilhelm sounds exasperated but that doesn’t deter Tim from his mission.

"Just a thing, c'mere.” Tim pushes Wilhelm against the alley wall. 

"Okay we're here,” Wilhelm grunts, shifting awkwardly against the wall. “What do you need to show me?"

"Uh....gimme a minute,” Tim says, taking a deep breath in before leaning his head up to brush his lips softly against Wilhelm’s, the soft hairs of Wilhelm’s beard tickling his chin. Wilhelm doesn’t react for a few seconds, but then the pressure of the kiss increases, and Wilhelm hands encircle Tim’s waist tightly. Tim breaks the kiss after a few moments, his eyes wide and biting his lower lip, both he and Wilhelm breathing heavily. Finally, Wilhelm breaks the silence.

“Tim, we should...probably stop.” He says, his voice low. “You’re not thinking straight.”

Tim opens his mouth to protest but Wilhelm cuts him off, “Let’s just...talk about this in the morning, okay? After you’ve sobered up.”

Eyes narrowing, Tim grumbles, more to himself than to Wilhelm “M’done talking.” and drops down to his knees, his hands reaching up to Wilhelm’s belt buckle and tugging it loose. 

“Tim?” Wilhelm grounds out, between gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

Tim doesn’t answer right away, instead pressing his face to the front of Wilhelm’s pants, nuzzling the hardness he finds with his mouth, relieved that for all Wilhelm’s protests, he’s not put off by Tim’s actions.

“Just...let me do this.” Tim replies, his hand stroking Wilhelm through the fabric of his pants, smiling as Wilhelm lets out a strangled groan. “I’ve been wanting to do this  _ forever _ , believe me.”

Tim slowly undoes the top button of Wilhelm’s pants, easing the zipper down. He looks Wilhelm in the eye, waiting for him to say “No.” or “stop, Tim”, but he doesn’t. He just stares at Tim, his eye dark, breathing heavily. Tim takes that as a sign to keep going and peels Wilhelm’s pants and underwear to mid-thigh. He lets out a strangled groan at the sight of Wilhelm’s large, thick cock, as he ghosts his gloved fingers around it, stroking lightly and pressing his tongue to the slit to lap up the beads of pre-come. Wilhelm stiffens against the wall, his fists clenching against himself as he takes a deep breath in. His teeth are gritted as he tries to muffle the groan in his throat as Tim’s mouth finally envelopes his cock, and Tim mentally pats himself on the back.

He starts off slowly, dragging each motion of his mouth over Wilhelm, giddy with the rush of  _ finally  _ doing this and the thrill of where it’s happening. There’s a distinct possibility that someone could stumble out of Moxxi’s and walk in on the show of their lives, but it doesn’t seem like Wilhelm is too concerned about that at the moment. Not with the way his hand tightens in Tim’s hair as Tim’s tongue teasingly traces over the underside of his dick. Tim’s right hand makes its way down to his own straining bulge in his pants and his palms himself roughly, his whimpers muffled. His hand strokes in time with the movements of his mouth, slow and teasing at first, becoming more urgent and sloppy as he gets more and more worked up, the soft groans and hushed swears coming from Wilhelm’s mouth spurring him on. 

Wilhelm rocks his hips gently forward, his hands running through Tim’s disheveled strands of hair, and he looks down at Tim, not breaking eye contact, his cheeks flushed pink, with beads of sweat dotting his forehead. The light off of Moxxi’s sign dances across his robotic eye, a blur of colour in an otherwise darkened alleyway. Tim had always thought of Wilhelm as stoically, ruggedly handsome, but seeing him slowly come undone by Tim’s mouth, and by extension, Tim, makes for a more attractive picture that Tim doesn’t want to share with anyone else. 

“Tim,” Wilhelm breathes out, his voice lower than usually, more strained. “Close. Real close.” He moves to pull back, but Tim’s hand on his hip stops him, and they lock eyes once more as Tim hollows out his cheeks and moves his tongue  filthily and with Tim’s name on his lips, Wilhelm comes, hips jerking erratically, and Tim swallows hungrily, his own hand moving frantically against his own jeans, before catching up with Wilhelm, coming in his own pants. Tim slumps backwards on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He watches Wilhelm slowly tuck himself back into his pants, buckling himself back up, still leaning against the wall for support. 

Wilhelm pulls Tim gently up to his feet, and Tim doesn’t get to think about what to say next-- _what can you say to someone you just blew in an alleyway?_ \--when Wilhelm pulls Tim against his chest and presses their mouths together, the kisses messy and urgent, and Tim feels a little lightheaded. When they finally pull apart, they are both breathing heavily, caught in each other’s eyes. 

“Come back to my place?” Wilhelm asks, softly, his lips traveling back down Tim’s neck, eliciting a small, delighted shiver from Tim’s body.

“Yes,” Tim breathes, his eyes wide and bright, cheeks burning slightly as Wilhelm’s slow grin spreads across his face. Without a second to comprehend what’s happening, and how it’s happening so fast, Wilhelm takes Tim’s hand, and pulls him down the streets of Concordia, towards his apartment.

~

Tim’s not in his own bed, that’s for certain. For one thing, his bed is not this big, not by a long shot. He hefts himself onto his elbows and blearily surveys the room around him. Definitely not his. The walls are devoid of any pictures or posters (look, he has one cat poster, alright, it’s for  _ motivation _ ), and there’s a desk shoved into the corner of the room with a pile of electronic components and instruments, and scattered gun parts across the desk’s surface. 

He is trying not to panic about where the hell he is, the last thing he remembers is drinking with Nisha, but he knows this isn’t her place, and suddenly Tim is very much aware that he’s not wearing his clothes, because they are at the foot of the bed, folded and stacked on top of each other. He leans over to look at the side of the bed and sure enough, his boots are propped against the mattress. He looks down at himself, his eyes widening at the huge yellow Hyperion t-shirt he’s practically swimming in, his shoulder peeking of the of top of the shirt. His eyes widen as his brain processes this information. There’s only one person he knows who would fit a shirt this size. 

“Oh no.” Tim says to himself, his hands gripping the bedsheets tightly, as the memories of the night previous flashes before his eyes. “Did I---Did we---?”

“Mornin’” Wilhelm’s gruff voice shakes Tim out of his head and he sees Wilhelm leaning against the doorframe, in a loose tank top and boxers ( _ “Oh no,” Tim thinks to himself in a panic _ ), holding two cups of coffee. 

“Uh---”

“Want some coffee?” Wilhelm asks, as if having Tim in his bed is a regular occurrence and Tim pushes that thought resolutely to the side of his brain before nodding. Wilhelm pushes himself off the doorframe and hands Tim a cup, their fingers brushing against each other lightly. Tim immediately averts his eyes to looking anywhere other than Wilhelm and hastily takes a sip of his coffee. It’s good. Really good. He makes a pleased noise at the back of his throat and takes another sip.

“Thanks,” He finally manages, still not really looking at Wilhelm. “And uh---thanks for washing my clothes?”

“Don’t mention it.” Is the gruff reply and Tim feels the mattress dip slightly as Wilhelm sits at the edge of the mattress. “You kind of made a mess anyhow.” Tim’s cheeks burn at the memory but also at the way Wilhelm is looking at him, the heat of his gaze rolling off of him like waves. Tim tries to ignore the way his entire body feels like one exposed nerve when Wilhelm looks at him like that. 

“Probably should have warned you.” Wilhelm says, and Tim looks up at him in surprise. “You shouldn’t ever go drinking with Nisha.”

A snort of laughter escapes Tim and he coughs and tries to clamp down on his nervous giggles. He’s only slightly successful but another giggle slips through his lips.

They sit in silence for a few moments, the only sounds passing through are the slow sips of coffee and Wilhelm shifting on the bed every few minutes. The air around the both of them feels tense and awkward, and Tim is torn between just running out of the apartment, clothing be damned, or asking Wilhelm for a repeat of last night. 

Tim notices Wilhelm opening his mouth, as if readying himself to say something to break the awkward silence, where the unmistakable ring of Tim’s ECHO cuts through the air, startling them both. Wilhelm looks around before realizing the sound is coming from beside Tim’s boots, and he picks it up, and hands it to him. Tim’s stomach drops; he knows who's calling him, but he forces himself to smile as he reaches for the ECHO.

“I think that might be Nisha.” Tim lies, trying to make his voice sound chipper, but he knows he’s not quite pulling it off. “I should probably get that.” He moves to answer the incessant ringing, but Wilhelm’s large hand covers Tim, stopping him.

“Tim, do you---” Wilhelm grunts, clearing his throat. “Do you regret last night?”

Tim gapes at Wilhelm for a moment before quickly answering, “Uh---well.” He notices Wilhelm’s mouth tightening and he quickly presses on, “If  you mean, drinking all that whiskey...then probably yes. I could have done without that part.” He smiles nervously up at Wilhelm, biting his bottom lip. “I don’t regret you though.” Tim swallows as Wilhelm’s hand tightens around his own. “I only wish it hadn’t been in an alleyway…” Wilhelm lets out a snort of laughter before taking another sip of his coffee. His face turns serious again as he puts the mug on the bedside desk before facing Tim again.

“I..uh,” Wilhelm has never sounded this unsure before, “I understand if you want this to be a one time thing---” and he never gets to finish his sentence because Tim’s pulls him closer by the straps of his tank top, pressing his lips against Wilhelm’s, smiling against them as a low growl escapes Wilhelm’s mouth and he presses Tim against the mattress. 

Tim’s ECHO is still ringing incessantly on the floor next to the bed, having fallen from Tim’s hands. Wilhelm reluctantly pulls away from Tim and stares down at it, as if his scowl could silence it. Tim laughs and reaches underneath him and presses the OFF button, not caring that he’ll get an earful later from Jack for ignoring his calls. 

Tim’s pretty sure his schedule is booked for the rest of the day, anyhow. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
